


Unlikely ~ A Reylo Modern AU ~ By: Maddie

by XxReySoloxX



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Sexual Situations, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Coffee Shops, College Student Rey (Star Wars), Depression, F/M, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Modern Era, Multi, POV Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug, Self-Discovery, Self-Doubt, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, Soft Ben Solo, Star Wars References, Strong Rey (Star Wars), Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), Volleyball, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxReySoloxX/pseuds/XxReySoloxX
Summary: Life is hard. Especially for some of us.Ben, smart, shy, cold, distant, does not want to be seen by anyone. With a past full of trauma, he is not ready to let those walls come down.Rey, social, out-going, stubborn, loves to meet new people. Though her past has set her through tough times, she never lets that hold her back, unlike Ben.When the two souls meet, an Unlikely friendship forms, and turns into an alluring, strong bond.But life is misleading. Life is deceitful. Life is Unlikely.¡¡¡¡¡¡¡DISCLAIMERS!!!!!!!:~ These characters are not my own. They are from the Star Wars® franchise.~ SELF HARM/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/SUICIDE ATTEMPTS/SUICIDE WARNING!!!!!!!!!!~ Mild Sexual Content.~ Gang Content Warning!!!!~ Strong Language Warning!!!!~ Viewer Discretion Advised.ALSO HERE IS THE SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR IT!!!https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vXQvg7CnlHW6jeEvJNtlI
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 17
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue ~ Ben

In order to live, you have one simple task. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. That is it. That is all you need to live. So, that is what I do, though, _I’d rather not_.

If only dying weren’t so painful, so alarming, _I’d be gone by now._ Gone from the terrible world we live in. Such an unfair, cruel place that no one can escape, except through death. Maybe I can do what my father did, _die._ Do what my Uncle did, _die._ Do what Snoke did, _die_. Do what Gwen did, _die_. Maybe, I can jump off a cliff. Stand in front of a train track, but I won’t. _I can’t_. It seems too painful. And I already have enough pain in my life, that I wish would go away in an instant, but it won’t.

People say pain and grief fade with time, but ever since my father died, it hasn’t faded. Ever since the car crash with my Uncle, it hasn’t faded. Ever since my young, timid self was bullied, was beaten, was harassed, it hasn’t faded. Pain has not faded over time. Maybe for normal people, it does. _But, I am not normal_.

Whether you’ve called me, ‘Freak’ or ‘Tall kid’ or ‘Guy that has ‘girl’ hair’ or ‘ _Kid_ ,’ no matter what you have called me, I still have one name. And one name only. _I’m Ben_ . Benjamin. Ben Solo. Ben Organa-Solo. Ben Organa-Skywalker-Solo. Yea, I know, ‘It’s a long last name you’ve got there!’ I have been told several times, you don’t need to tell me again. But, I am _not_ normal. Though, I wish I was, maybe I’d be happy. Or, at least _happier._

But life is misleading. Life is deceitful.

Life is _Unlikely_.


	2. Prologue ~ Rey

In order to live, you have one simple task. Be happy. Whether it is going to grab a milkshake with your best friend or going on a simple walk, do what makes you happy.

Most people think that in order to live, you need to breathe. Well yes, to get oxygen into your blood stream but, tell them they’re stupid because in order to  _ survive _ you need to breathe.

Surviving and living are two separate things. To survive, you are living without purpose, unless you’re in  _ Cast Away® _ , then you are surviving for purpose. Besides the point, surviving is living without purpose, and just staying on Earth because you are too scared to die. But living, you are living for a purpose. You are living to stay with your significant other. You are living to get a Master’s Degree in college. You are living to be  _ happy _ , to live the best life you can. Just some can’t do that, though I pity them deeply.

They are letting their past define them. Letting their past impact their futures. I have a crappy past. I was abused in and the foster care system, but I didn’t let that define me. I  _ don’t _ let that define me.

We all have our ups and downs. We all make mistakes. But,  no matter who you are, what you have done,  _ your past does not define you _ . Because life is  _ Unlikely _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> “Don’t be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin.”  
>  \- Grace Hansen


	3. Chapter 1 ~ Ben

**Ben**

The musty smell of feet and polished leather fill the air. When most people walk into a skating rink, that is what they smell, and probably think it’s foul. Well, it is, but _I’m used to it_ . I’ve been training for five days a week, four hours each day ever since I was three, and now I’m twenty. Seventeen years of learning how to balance on a single blade on ice, twisting my ankle several times, but _I’m used to it_ . Seventeen years of pain and injuries from pushing myself too hard. But that is what I do. Push myself to my breaking point. And it hurts, but _I’m used to it_.

Walking through the long corridor coming from the check in area, I pass the rental kiosk, and I watch people from some of my classes trying to find the right size skate for their feet; though I pity them. Putting on skates by yourself for the first time is hell, and it will feel as if you don’t have feet. But, _I’m used to it_.

As I approach the bleachers, the cold air making my cheeks imbue pink, I spot those _fools_ galavanting onto the rink, laughing and giggling. I wish I could laugh like them, but it would be forced. They stumble and lean on each other, making me chuckle at their lack of grace, though their faces are familiar.

Rey, Finn, and Poe. They are in some of my courses, but I have never spoken to them upfront, only for projects and whatever. _Idiots_.

Placing each of my feet onto the low bleacher, I take off my crimson skate guards, the shiny, silver blade flashing in my eye, making me squirm at the sudden light. I pack my bag neatly, making sure everything is in the correct spot and walk over to the lockers, opening and locking my belongings inside the teal metal boxes. A muted sigh escapes my lips as I take off my black hoodie, revealing my crimson t-shirt underneath. And I immediately feel my stomach. _Good_.

 _Keep it together, Ben. Keep it together_.

A single tear slides down my roseate cheek. _Keep it together. Don’t let them know about what you did, what you’ve done_.

Wiping the warm, salty tear tracking down my cheek, I wrap my hoodie around my waist, tying it in a knot by my tender, feeble abdomen, and grabbing my flask. Swiftly walking out of the locker room and placing my black, brisk flask on the bleachers, I walk into the frigid rink. Sliding in, I start warm ups along with the rest of my group, only praying that maybe they wouldn’t notice my tardiness, specifically Coach.

“Ben,” Coach starts. “You are ten minutes late, which means-”

“I know, I know,” I cut him off. “Ten laps.” Rolling my eyes at my failed attempt, I start to skate around the rink, cold air flowing through me. Gliding, I watch as the Freshmans struggle to gracefully do a sit spin, making me chuckle.

 _Five more laps_.

Continuing to glide in balletic strokes, I observe Rey, Finn, and Poe getting kicked off the rink due to the two classes going, including mine where I co-teach. I can’t help but laugh a little when Poe throws a fit once they are off and Finn and Rey are trying to calm him down. Typical Poe; feisty, aggressive, and humorous. Finn; generally calm; kind; sociable. Rey; loud; social; peppy. To be honest, all of them are loud, but Rey is the loudest, which _I don’t care for_.

 _One more lap_.

Finishing the laps, I glide over to Coach, the Freshmans continuing to warm up, or all of them except for one. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Petite and curvy. _Phasma_.

I first met Gwen - Phasma on my first day of ice skating. She was a year older than me and at a higher level, but she still helped me. She was the first person to truly see _me_ . We grew up as best friends, always lended each other a hand and trusted each other. And today, _she would have been twenty-one if it weren’t for Snoke_.

Hatred. Enmity.

Snapping into reality, Coach skates over to me, “Ben, take a roll then go help anyone out with their technique.”

I nod, neck elongated as I glide over to the girl first, “Name?”

“Saoirse,” the girl replies in a barely audible whisper, legs shaking timidly. I can only think the tiny thing is terrified of my height. Like everyone was. I was teased for it in school, and some feared me. But, _I am used to it_.

Her hair tied up into a high ponytail, she looks down at her worn out skates, the blade still shining silver before she skates to the rim and starts to warm up. “Well then,” I murmur quietly, grabbing the clipboard that rests on the ledge of the rink, skimming through the names of people and crossing them out with the blue, ballpoint pen.

“Naomi.”

“Nathan.”

“Jackie.”

“Jo.”

“Zoey.”

“Daniel.”

I go through all the people, gliding from one end of the rink to another before placing the clipboard down onto the cold ledge and skating to the first person in line.

“Saoirse, correct?” I ask the blonde girl.

“Yes,” she replies, confidence in her tone.

“You want to perform a double axel in your routine, correct?” She nods, putting her hands on her hips as she glides one foot back and forth, keeping the other steady. “Do you know how to do one?”

“No,” she replies, looking up at me and putting her long, lavish hair into a high ponytail. I nod my head, gripping the arms of my hoodie and tying it tighter as I wander on the ice. “Well, if you want to execute that at least near perfect, you start training for it now. Let’s go.”

Not looking back at her, I skate to the other side of the rink, doing an axle for a warm up, landing on the ice on my left leg. Saoirse follows, doing the exact same move and I nod to her. Putting her hands into the pockets of her black leggings, she looks at me, hope in her gaze. 

“Well, we’ll start off with what you know,” I instruct, gliding in circles, “So, we are just going to start off with axles and just working on technique for this first week. Next week, we are going to work on momentum, and then the week after that, I will start teaching you a double,” I ramble, looking down at her.

Her eyes glimmer with hope. “Can you do a double axle?” She asks, a curious look on her face. I nod, doing a near perfect double axle and landing arms flailing as I try to keep my balance. _I haven’t worked on my double in a while, I should continue perfecting it_. Looking over to the right of the rink, Finn's mouth drops along with Rey’s. They stare at me in awe as discomfort rushes into me, I push it aside.

Turning my gaze to Saoirse, cheeks red, I nod, “Ok, we are going to start off with an axle.” She nods quietly, doing one right off the bat but failing. As she stumbles when she lands, I immediately rush to her, placing my hands on her shoulders and standing her upright. I take my hands off, watching as her legs wobble and her gaze stiffens. Scratching my head, I look dead into her blue eyes, murmuring softly, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

***

_Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap_.

My muscles tense, my expression worried, I peer down at my red stomach, scrambling for my black hoodie as I rush to put it on. I secure my backpack and grab my duffel bag, tears coating my eyes as I barrel out of the building and into the soothing, warm air. But, I am stopped. _Great_.

“You skating now, eh?” The sinister voice calls from behind me.

I roll my eyes, clenching my fists tightly. “What do you want now?” I mutter. He cackles, walking in front of me and looking me dead in my eyes. I snarl, “What the hell do you want?!”

“By me just being here, I annoy you. You make it so easy for me to agitate you, Kylo,” Hux cackles.

“It’s Ben, so shut up and get out of my way.”

“Why, Ren? Why-”

“Snoke and Phasma are dead,” I pause, my fists releasing. “So I have no business with you _puny_ thing,” I glare, walking out of his way and pacing down the walkway. Calling back, “So stop talking to me, orange juice.”

I can feel his mouth drop, making me smirk slightly as I walk away into the fall leaves. The dry leaves make a crunch sound as my black high tops step onto them. My bangs fall by my eyes, only allowing me to see what is exactly in front of me as I pace down the concrete walkway, rushing to get back to my dorm before my stomach leaks more.

When I arrive, I immediately slam the door shut, not caring what Oliver—my roommate—will say at the sudden eruption of noise.

“What the heck?! I told you not to slam the door!” Oliver yells from the desk, taking out his earbud. “I was in the middle of studying for my exam,” he squeaks.

I roll my eyes, running into the bathroom and locking the door, hearing a snicker coming from the other room. I clamber to get off my backpack and take off my hoodie, dropping my duffel and putting the toilet cover down and sitting on it. I lift my crimson shirt, holding the mirror up to my stomach. Blood. Blood seeps out from underneath the bandage, leaving a trail of red down my abdomen. Breathing in a hiss, tears falling from my eyes, my hand trembles, reaching for the bandages and ripping one off the roll. 

** (Self Harm Warning) **

_Pain_. I slip my finger underneath the bloody bandage stuck to my stomach, carefully taking it off, my breathing heavy.

 _Pain_. I grab a disinfectant wipe from the first aid kit, opening the paper packaging and gripping the counter ledge, getting ready to embrace the stinging sensation, once again.

 _Pain_. I wipe the blood and the wound carefully, sure not to put too much pressure on my tender abdomen.

 _Pain_. I hiss at the sting, tears welling in my puffy eyes as I fold the wiping, putting it into a spare Ziploc bag and stuffing it inside my duffle bag and gripping the counter ledge tighter at the increasing pain.

 _Pain_. A slight throbbing on every wound I wiped, eyes glassy with tears and stomach red.

 _Pain_. Opening the large bandage, carefully placing it onto my large wound, pressing down the edges to make sure it stays in place.

 _Pain_. I grab several different bandaids of different sizes, placing them on each cut and determining which size goes on which cut but the extent of the lesion.

 _Pain_. I sigh filters through my lips, throwing the trash into the trash can and resting my head on the beige wall to the bathroom, the throbbing sensation dying down. My grip on the counter ledge loosens, my eyes red and puffy.

Looking back down at my stomach and then to my shirt, I notice how much blood is on the garment. Exhaling, I stand up, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it overhead, looking at my damaged body in the mirror. So many scars. So many cuts and bruises. I frown, my forehead sweaty as I look at my long scar running down my face, down my neck, down my chest, down my abdomen. The memory faintly places itself into my mind, but I don’t want to remember it. Shaking my head, tears welling in my eyes, I forcefully put my hands onto the counter, putting pressure on my wrists, hair falling down the sides of my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, a tear falling onto the backside of my calloused hand.

In an attempt to put the thought in the past, I grab my backpack along with my shirt, putting the shirt to my stomach so Oliver can’t see all the scars of different shades: pink, white, red, brownish-tan. I open the bathroom door, pacing out and to my side of the bedroom, Oliver sitting in the kitchen/living room by the desk, a video playing and several textbooks open and marked with highlighter. I walk to my bed, placing my backpack and duffel on the black, gray, and red plaid comforter as I walk to my dresser, grabbing a black t-shirt and putting it on swiftly, belly aching. I toss my shirt into the transportable bassinet, unzipping my duffel and packing my skates away underneath the bed, neatly. I then grab my black flask, taking it from my duffel and throwing it onto the bed with a soft murmur.

I look to my backpack, unzipping the pockets and taking my computer out along with my books as I stuff my duffel underneath my bed, and climbing onto the raised bed, the mattress dipping to accommodate my weight. Sighing softly, I open my laptop and start my work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> “If you fall down, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start again”  
> -Unknown


	4. Chapter 1 ~ Rey

**Rey**

The cold air makes my throat dry as I watch the Freshmans do all these insane tricks, or maybe they’re normal. Maybe I just don’t know enough about ice skating to be impressed by everything. Leaning on the ledge, my eyes catch on the tall dude from my environmental studies, French, and public health course. I haven’t spoken to him much, only ever worked with him on projects and group work, but that’s it. He is cute, I’ve got to admit, but I’ve never had any interest in him, he is usually very quiet, timid, which _I don’t care for_. My eyes trailing on him, I watch as he skates around with ease; such grace, such dignity. I never knew he skated, but we learn something new everyday, right?

I can’t help but smile as I watch him twirl around as another girl tracks behind him. He speaks to the girl as I notice the height difference between them. It has got to be _at least_ a foot in difference. I squint my eyes, trying to get a clearer vision of the two of them from the far distance between. After a few moments, the tall dude skates around, gaining momentum before he jumps in the air, twirling around at least _three_ times and landing on his left leg. My mouth drops. His arms flail slightly, trying to regain his balance as he pops back up and skates back to the girl, instructing her to do something.

My lips still parted open in awe, the girl follows with a similar movement, but trips as she lands. I lean forward, scared she is going to fall down but tall dude rushes behind her, standing her up and murmuring something to her ear as they continue to do warm ups, each movement awing me even more.

As time passes, I watch him, he skates to several people showing them better technique, or that is what I assume. He is so kind to help others out, I never expected it because he is usually so cold, so distant, but now I know to not assume. I shiver in the cold air, looking down at my watch. _3:30_. I have practice at four, I should get going. Looking over at Finn, I sigh softly, stand up tall, “I need to go, you guys.”

Poe and Finn look over to me, faint smiles on their lips, “Okay, we are meeting up at World Mart for dinner tonight, you joining?”

I smirk, “Always. Rose, is she coming?”

Finn frowns. “I don’t think so, Paige is most likely going to get her some food to-go,” Finn mutters, a sad look on his face.

I grimace softly, running a hand through my wavy, brown hair. “Finn, you and Rose need to make up, you can’t be avoiding each other forever,” I say, a soft tone.

Finn nods, sighing softly. “I should give her more time, I’ll speak to her when I am ready,” he frowns.

I nod in response, looking back out into the rink, tall dude midway in the air and spinning around, landing perfectly as he glides on his left foot. I smile and put on my backpack, grabbing my rental skates and telling my friends that I’d see them at dinner.I then walk out of the building, making sure to give my rentals back to the worker at the kiosk before leaving. The warmer air comforts me, compared to the cold air inside the building. Colour returns to my face as I pace over to the volleyball gym.

***

Shoes squeak against the polished, wooden floor, balls flying everywhere. Paige and I partner up for our ball control sequence, grabbing one of the blue, white, and green volleyballs from the basket, tossing it into the air as Paige passes it back. We continue to bump the ball to each other in controlled passes, the ball going in an arch towards the sky.

As practice continues we split into two teams, playing against one another. I stand by the net, knees bent in a squat position as Emily gets the dig and I bounce up, setting the ball high into the air as Paige runs up and swings her arm to it, the pall dropping on the opponent’s side. We all cheer, going into the middle of the court and huddling, going back to our positions as the seven players on our team—not including me— rotate. Paige serves next. I’ve always admired her serving technique, it’s so precise. She walks back behind the back line, bouncing the ball and slapping it hard before tossing it high into the air, running, then jumping up high and hitting the ball over the net.

We start the next rally.

***

Legs sore, I walk into the dorm with Paige, our knee guards still on and shoes squeaking. Looking into the kitchen, Rose is sitting on the small table, eyes to the ground, I sigh. Paige closes and locks the door as we walk in and put our bags onto the blue sofa, strolling over to Rose. Paige places her hand on her back as I stare, moving my knee guards down my knees and to my ankles as I sit on the table beside Rose, trying to change the topic that hasn’t been discussed, “How was practice?”

“Typical,” she replies bluntly.

I sigh as Paige speaks. “Do you want to come to dinner tonight? Or do you want me to bring something back?”

A guilty look spreads across Rose’s face, “I’m sorry.”

Paige cuts her off, “It’s okay, what do you want?”

“Can you go to Vietnam and get me pho with pork? And leeks,” she whimpers, guilt in her gaze.

Paige nods, scruffing her hair as we walk into our room, Rose sitting on the table. Paige sighs as she closes the door, throwing her things onto her white comforter. “Rose _has_ to get over Finn, they both agreed they would stay mutual friends-”

“It is hard to get over a break up though,” I intervene. “I have never had to go through one but, I know for a fact it is hard.”

Paige nods in agreement, unpacking her books and walking to the desk, starting her homework. I do the same.

***

Paige and I walk back from Cuba, a plate with a lechon sandwich and yuca, our favorite after a tough practice. Poe and Finn wait for us at the bonfire table outside, smiling and waving at us to come over, we do gladly.

As we sit down on the other side of the fire, the cold concrete seats rock hard, Poe smiles, “You guys went to Cuba again?”

Paige smirks, “They have the best food there, can you blame us?”

“The whole reason UNC added a buffet called ‘World Mart’ is so students can try food from around the world. You can’t do that if you _only_ go to Cuba,” Poe exclaims, fiddling with his fork, looking into Paige’s eyes.

“Because, we can,” she spits back, leaving me giggling softly.

Poe rolls his eyes, scooping a forkful of fried rice from Thailand, looking into Finn’s eyes wistfully. I raise my eyebrow but look down when Poe glances up. I sigh softly when I hear a buzz on my phone. Hopefully it is the order Rose wanted me and Paige to get for her from Vietnam, but it is from something else. I open up the app, seeing the swirling letters dance across the screen.

_It’s a match!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> \- “If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives”
> 
> \- Violet Baudelaire and Quigley Quagmire
> 
> \- Lemony Snicket


	5. Chapter 2 ~ Ben

**Ben**

My bangs cover my view partially as I open the green dumpster and throw in the Ziploc with all my bloody wipes and bandages, then a paper towel on top so no one will see,  _ hopefully _ . The unforgiving stench burns my nose as I am quick to close the dumpster and walk out of the alleyway, the fall wind blowing through my long hair.

_ Pang _ .

I shrill at the sudden pain, putting my hands to my stomach as I stop in my tracks, taking slow, deep breaths. My stomach spasms as I hold it tightly; I let go and continue walking out of the dim alleyway, ignoring the lingering pain.

Fresh air. I sigh in relief, such a pleasant feeling in the cool fall air. The gray sky and leaves falling from trees brings me a sudden joy—a joy I’ve needed—my dark red, knit sweater keeping me warm. As my stomach throbs at the deep, re-opened cuts, I think back to the first time I ever did something like this, and why I did it.

**\- June 30, 2016 -**

When Kylo stormed out of the abandoned, dusty farm, his eyes glistening with tears and such grief, he let out a paining strangled sob that shook the world, falling to the floor. Everything was spinning violently, everything was not what it had used to be. His mother, Leia, had a type of... never mind— His dog, Chewbacca, got hit by a car and died. Phasma, she is now forever tied up with Snoke. And his father, Han, died the night before.  _ Lost the fight to the darkness _ .

Hearing Snoke run after him, the young fifteen year old once called Ben, ran. His breathing heavy and irregular, he sprinted out into the pine forest by the grassy field, hoping to lose Snoke in the brush. He ran faster; heart pounding out of his chest, fear and despair in his gaze. Snoke followed, his breath reeking of some drug he was about to have Kylo sell, though he didn’t know that  _ Ben _ threw every packet, every container, out off Alderaan’s cliffs and gave Snoke his own hard-earned money.

Kylo continued to run, Snoke losing him in the heavy, forest green brush before Kylo tripped, scraping his cheek as he stood up and ran out of the forest. Breath irregular, Kylo stood, catching his breath before pacing behind a tree and sinking down against the rough bark. Snoke had given up by then, returning to the abandoned farm, leaving Kylo in the forest against the dark oak tree.

Kylo hesitated to make a sound, his legs were weak, just like him—no. The young boy looked at the moss where he sat, the gravel like terrain dipping as a flash of a like flickers in the corner of his eye. His breath caught at the sight of a translucent, glass shard, stuck in the soil, the sharp edge drawing him toward it.  _ I can’t do this anymore _ , he thought to himself.  _ I want to be free of this pain _ . Reaching for the shard, entire body trembling—especially his hand—he grabs the shard hesitantly, yanking it from the Earth’s grip. It glistened in the light rain, speckles of various shades of brown soil on the translucent shard; the boy held it into the gentle rain, water dripping down the shard, the soil falling with the rivulets of water.

Breath quivering, he lifted his black shirt, his pale stomach naked underneath the pine tree as he watched his reflection through the shard, holding it to his stomach. With hesitation, he chants to himself. “ _ I have no purpose _ .  _ I have no reason _ .  _ I have no purpose _ .”

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

The young boy screamed, birds flying away from the trees they once lived.

“ _ I deserve this _ .”

“ _ I lost Phasma to Snoke _ .”

“ _ My mother could die at any moment now _ .”

“ _ Chewie got hit by a car today _ .”

“ _ My dad… my dad died in a mental battle _ .”

Ben sobbed on the ground, blood seeping from his once  _ untouched _ stomach and down his abdomen, making his already dark pants even darker. He squirmed at the immense pain, pushing the shard deeper into his flesh. He let out a restrained cry, a plea, a plea for mercy, for whatever he did which caused him this pain. This grief.

His hands shaking, he reaches into his pocket, a dirtied tissue. Hand shuddering violently, Ben dabs the crumpled tissue on the open wound, extracting some of the blood before giving himself another cut.

From this moment, the cutting into flesh as a form of punishment, form of escape, became routine to Ben. A more or less, weekly routine. Some worse than others. Some more painful and some barely a scrape. But it doesn’t change the fact he’d been doing it for over five years now: ever since January of Sophomore year of High school to Junior year of college.

_____

My breath catches at the thought, the feeling, the memory. How I was manipulated by Snoke, Phasma—stop.

Shaking ever so slightly, I continue walking down the concrete paths of UNC, fall breeze causing my skin to turn paler than normal. I hear a long ringing sound, the world spinning as the pain in my stomach escalates to a further, more sweltering pain. My stomach no longer feels as if it’s an unbearable pain, as if it is, rather, a scorching sun, soon to detonate.

I look down at my abdomen, covered by a crimson, knit sweater, little threads flying off the knit. Searching my surroundings—buildings in every separate direction and patches of grasses that fill the empty spaces between the paths, trees in fall hues and boxwood bushes lining the sections of vivid grass—I walk behind a tree, sinking down onto the dewy grass. I let out a shaky sigh, hands shaking vigorously as I lift my sweater, my abdomen swollen and red.  _ Shit _ . I scramble around, throwing my backpack off me and onto the grass, searching for the medicine; and of course I forgot to get another tube yesterday when I went to a nearby store.

I tilt my head against the tree, letting my crimson sweater fall over my stomach as I grip my backpack, my mind drifting to anything other than the deep,  _ infected _ cuts on my stomach. Clenching my bag, I stand up, throwing the heavy, black pack around my shoulders and start walking to philosophy. 

***

_ She felt so... trapped. As if nothing could _ —

“Ben,” Profesor Yoda speaks. “What writing piece have you conjured this time?” The old man asked—his skin so pale it looked green.

My eyes shift from my computer to him, hesitation in my gaze, my mind. “Poetry,” I answer bluntly.

Yoda smiles grimly, holding his walking stick up to my face and forcing it to the ground again announcing to the large class, “Young Ben Solo has decided to take in the art of poetry, eh?” My face grows pale as everyone in the class looks at me, eyes shifting between Yoda and me.

“I- um, yes?” I whispered, nails digging into my thighs.

Yoda smiled softly as he continued to roam the aisles and rows of desks that fill the room. Staying quiet, I continue to work on my assignment. Silence fills the room, except for the simple buzzing of the light and the AC running through the hall. I sigh, breath hollow as I go to my schedule.

  * Philosophy
  * Creative Writing
  * Lunch
  * Environmental Studies
  * Skating



I smile lightly, thankfully today isn’t a heavy schedule like normal.

As Yoda dismisses us, I quickly stand up, noticing how I have a little over an hour before my lunch break. Walking outside of the hall, I walk to the pharmacy out of campus nearby, hoping, praying to not get hit by a car as I walk across the street. As a result of the accident with Uncle Luke, I fear many things,  _ especially _ busy roads. Pacing across the street, I walk down the sidewalk, walking into a nearby pharmacy and searching the aisles for the medicine. I see the purple packaging with the name printed onto the box. I sigh in relief, quickly picking up the small box and rushing to the cashier.

The auburn lady looks at me, concern written in her gaze as she looks at the medicine. “What would a young boy like you be needing this?” She questions.

“I got a cut in ice skating practice, it’s infected,” I lie bluntly.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Are you sure you got the cut from ice skating? This medicine is meant for  _ deep _ cuts. I wouldn’t want you getting the wrong medicine,” she concludes.

Hiding my fear, I look at her. “It is a deep cut, and I  _ did _ get it from ice skating,” I reply sternly.

She nods plainly, scanning the medicine and handing it to me. “Fourteen credits.”

I take out my credits and hand them to her as she passes me back the change, adding one more thing to her statement. “ _ Be careful _ .”

I nod in response, “I will.”

_ Yea, right _ .

Quickly striding out, I walk down the street and back onto the UNC campus, pacing to Holdo’s Cafe. Entering the cafe, booths in many shades of blue and green, I walk to the counter, where the pink hair and blue eyed lady is standing at the counter, calculating how many credits to give the workers. Hesitating, I look down at my stomach, I don’t want to bother her, but she said—just do it.

I glance up at her. “Holdo— I…”

“Amilyn,” she corrects. She then eyes me, the grave look on my face. “Oh God. Come,” she whispers, adding. “Ackbar,” she calls out. “Take the cashier for a moment please!”

The dark skin and deep brown eyes—Ackbar—walks out quickly, taking the credits from Amilyn’s hands and continuing to count the credits. Amilyn walks from behind the counter, taking my hand swiftly and bringing me into the back of Holdo’s Cafe; pulling up a conventional blue chair and putting it down on the tile of the office, she motions me to sit down on it. I do so, as per normal. She pulls up her chair and sits, lifting my sweater as I immediately brought it down, fear in my stare.

“Ben, it’s okay. It is just me. Amilyn Holdo. I have changed your diapers before, it is me. Your mom’s best friend.  _ It is just me _ ,” she reassures as I lift my sweater, the bloody bandages peeling off at the corners. Her breath hollows as she looks at the bandages. “What did you do this time?”

A slight whimper escapes my lips as she rolls to the door, locking it and coming back over to me, yanking off all of the bandages. I flinch each time she rips a bandage from my skin. I grip the legs of the chair tightly, in fear that I’d claw into my stomach, making my cuts worse than they already are. Amilyn digs into her evergreen tote bag, taking out oddly large bandages. I shake the thought from my mind, watching her grab the tube of medication from my hand and applying it in soothing strokes, barely causing me any pain before she puts the large band-aids onto my tender abdomen. As she finishes, she sighs, my blood on her hands as she stands up and walks to the bathroom, washing her bony hands and drying them. She walks out, a grave look on her face, she carefully pulls down my sweater and puts the chair away.

“You cannot keep doing this to yourself, Ben,” she exhales. “I still have yet to tell your mother.”

“Please,” I croak, strained. “Please don’t. She can’t go through more pain, she doesn’t deserve it,” I murmured softly.

“You don’t deserve pain, either,” Amilyn adds.

“ _ I do _ .”

She sighs as she kneels down. “Ben, I don’t care about how she is going to react. Leia has every right to know what you—her son—is doing to himself. I- no,  _ you _ have been hiding it from her for way too long. I have simply been covering you up. Ever since your Freshman years of college, and how long have you been doing it?” About to answer, she interrupted with an answer to her own question. “Five years. Five years you have been doing this to yourself. The longest you have been clean in one week.  _ One _ . Of course I am proud of you, but you need to know that you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve all that has happened to you.”

“Then why did some power above choose me? Choose me to suffer,” I mumble.

She has no answer. I know. She stays silent, only a small exhale escaping her mouth. She looks at me, blue eyes dull. “Ben, if you are not clean for at least one week, I am telling your mother.”

“But—”

“No buts. You mom has every right to know what you are doing, she should have known from the beginning. About everything with Snoke and—” She notices how I flinch at the name being said out loud. She quickly corrects herself. “About everything with what happened, and maybe, you wouldn’t have done this to yourself. Maybe, she would have gotten you the help that you needed and you wouldn’t be in this boat right now.”

Eyes coated in glassy tears, I grip the seat tighter. “I am just a burden in her life, she didn’t and doesn’t need this one,”I mutter. Before she can say anything else, I stand up and leave the cafe without another word.

***

After lunch and environmental studies, the arugula salad and blue milk not sitting well in my stomach, I head over to UNC’s rink. Walking down the pathway, legs shaky, I strut past another small cafe with outdoor seating and fairy lights that line the walls. Several UNC students sit by the fire pits and laugh and talk in a fun manner. Sometimes, I hate when people laugh, because it reminds me of one of the many things I  _ can’t _ do; but on other matters, I love to hear people laugh because it helps me to know of what I could become. What I could be. But, that rarely happens.

Catching a glimpse of that girl that I saw at the skating rink the other day, hazel, big eyes and brown, wavy hair, I notice the wide, shining smile plastered on her face. Such a joyful, youthful look. I continue to walk past the cafe and to the skating rink.

“What?!” I asked in astonishment, looking at Coach.

“Yep, the Olympics.  _ The _ Olympics! I can’t believe that they actually made it there,” Coach exclaims. “But on a different note, you are going to be competing in a nationwide competition against the best schools in the country. Can you believe it?”

“Well, yes. Every student who participates in figure skating goes to the competition, I have been twice,” I say, rolling my eyes slightly.

“Hey, watch it. But still, this year, you have to do a triple axel. I know you are capable of doing it, you are the best skater out of all the Juniors.”

I sighed, “I know. But, I am not sure this is the career path I want to take. Of course, I love doing figure skating and maybe I can help coach someday, but it’s not my goal to go to The Olympics. Or become the best figure skater in the world. I want to be something else,” I mused.

“Then what do you want to be?” Coach asked.

“It doesn’t matter, but I promise to come help you teach the new students when I leave UNC and go on with my life,” I finish, smirking.

“You better. You are always welcome here, Ben.”

I smile softly as I walk onto the ice, skating around the rink and yelling to Coach, “I think I have my song choice! Or choices!”

Coach followed me onto the ice and brought the clipboard with his signature blue ballpoint pen. “So what were you thinking?”

“In My Blood - Shawn Mendes. Mercy - Shawn Mendes. Brother - Kodaline. Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi.”

“Nice choices, and I see you are still a bit obsessed with Shawn Mendes?” Coach laughs teasingly.

“Shut up,” I laugh as I start working out my skating routine.

Private lessons went by quicker than normal, I notice as I walk out of the building in my black high-tops. Considering that I am finished for the day, all I need to do is study for my Ethics exam and Philosophy quiz. Oliver can help me with that.

I stroll down the path, the sweet sensation of no blood seeping from my cuts filling me as I take in the scenery. Well, not so much scenery, more just a bunch of buildings in a bustling city and trees, sometimes shrubs or sorts. Breathing in the fresh air, I continue to walk down the walkway, heading North for my dorm building.

I then remember what Amilyn menaced. A shiver flees down my spine, _ I can’t let my mom know about what I have done. I cannot be a burden anymore _ .

Burden. Burden: A thing or a person that is holding something back or adding more stress into their lives.  _ Me _ .

People have made it very clear that I am a burden, especially—

I sigh as I continue to walk down the concrete pathway, passing the cafe again, but that girl is still there. Stopping in my tracks, I glance over at her, the once bright smile on her face a frown, once shining hazel eyes, now dull. I quirk an eyebrow. I saw her as I was walking to practice, it’s been two hours. Why is she still there? I watch as she looks at her phone, her thumbs moving quickly as I presume she is texting someone. Sighing, she puts her phone down, resting her elbow on the table and her chin resting on the palm of her hand. The waiter walks by, talking to her as she puts a smile on her face and waves him off, but the moment the waiter walked away, she frowned again. I could see people from other tables giving her sad looks. What was happening?

About to stalk off, an instinct in me lulls me to stay, to continue watching.

_ Stay. _

_ No. _

_ Stay. _

_ No. _

_ Stay. _

_ No. _

_ Stay. _

_ Fine. _

I walk to the blue bench across the pathway from the cafe, sitting and watching. One minute turned into ten. Ten minutes turned into twenty. I take out my text book and start studying for my philosophy quiz to pass the time.

And after almost an hour, I glance up. She is still there. I bite my lip in hesitation.

_ Go. _

_ No. _

_ Go. _

_ No. _

_ Go. _

_ No. _

_ How about we lay out the pros and cons. _

_ No. _

_ Go. _

_ Fine. _

I instinctively put my books and numerous highlighters into my backpack, throwing the bag around my shoulder and walking to the cafe. I quickly open the gate and close the gate into the patio seating area and ignore the glances of other people. I walk down to her table and pull up the chair across from her and sit down, saying loudly, “I am  _ so _ sorry. There was  _ so _ much traffic!”

The girl, Rey, looks at me, eyes wide and a small glimmer of hope. I look around, everyone seems relieved. I sigh and look back, whispering. “ _ I’m Ben, just go along with it _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> “I cannot do all the good that the world needs. But the world needs all the good I can do.”
> 
> \- Jana Stanfield


	6. Chapter 4 ~ Rey

[ **https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vXQvg7CnlHW6jeEvJNtlI** ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vXQvg7CnlHW6jeEvJNtlI)

“ _ I’m Ben, just go along with it _ .”

The sweet sensation of relief fills me, my mind, my heart, my soul. Never in a million years did I think anyone would help me in such a rare situation, but  _ he _ did.  _ Ben _ did.

Eyes shifting between different people sitting around us with relieved looks on their faces, I exhale without noise, muscles loosening. I look back up at him again, his eyes not lifting from the oak table and cheeks glowing pink. His bangs cover his eyes as he stays awfully quiet.

_ Say something,  _ my mind whispers to him, if only I could speak through telepathy maybe that would work. I sigh softly, acknowledging that he didn’t have to help me. He could have left me to sit here expectantly, waiting for the person who was meant to be here. He could have left me to face the unyielding shame of picking up my stuff and leaving after sitting there for two hours without ordering any food, but he didn’t. The cold, shy, distant person from environmental studies and French who barely speaks, helping me? It seems odd, why would he help me? Me. Rey. Rey…  _ nobody _ .

“You didn’t have to help me,” I start, not thinking about what I’m going to say next. I pause, inhaling sharply and looking into his soulful brown eyes. “So why did you?”

I watch as he runs his fingers through his long hair. He takes a moment to think, supposing that he just did it out of pure instinct. After a moment, he looks back at me, lips parting somewhat. Eyes interlocking with mine, he starts. “Because,” he pauses. “ _ I know what it feels like to be alone. _ ”

My gaze softens, my lips part in surprise, my nose crinkles. “What do you mean?” I ask out of natural curiosity.

Ben stiffens, and a nervous look flashing across his face. He replies quickly. “I know what it feels like to be forgotten.”

Answers are all I want. His replies are so blunt I can barely get any information out of him but, I don’t expect anything else out of him. After all, I have only ever seen him speak up once in class. He’s quiet, I understand that, but something about it drives me to insanity. It could be the fact that I am a chatterbox, he isn’t. I’m very extroverted, he’s introverted. I am so used to being around people who talk a lot that this is a new aura I have yet to explore.

Readjusting my clip in my hair, I look back into his eyes, such a mysterious gaze. So… soulful and youthful. He seems so calm, yet so broken. He seems so put together, yet being  _ torn apart _ . Eyeing him kindly, I place my hands on my lap. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He stares at me, not saying a word, then grabbing the menus and passing one to me, whispering, “No problem.”

I smile gently, taking the menu from his hands and opening it, scanning through the plenty of options on it. I notice how he fidgets with a spoon, the spoon spinning in his right hand as he skims the menu. Watching closely, without drawing his attention to myself, he continues to twist the silver spoon with his thumb and middle finger. Watching the fiddling of his thumbs and the twirling in the silver spoon mesmerizes me as I sit in the wooden chair.

Out of the corner of my eye, he looks at me, his eyebrow raised and a look of confusion written on his expression. Blushing lightly, I sit back up and look at the menu again, noticing how his eyes shift between me and the spoon in his hand. He looks back to the menu, setting the spoon down as we read the menus.

A moment later, the waiter comes back, noticing how there is finally someone sitting in that chair. That someone I have been waiting for, though an unexpected one. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Can I get you guys anything? Drinks? Appetizers?” He asks enthusiastically.

Looking to Ben, he looks down at the table, not answering the question. Sighing, I start.

After we, or  _ I _ , ordered, I stare down at the table once again. He barely even murmured, even whispered, I didn’t understand him, but somehow the waiter did. Is he really this shy? I sort of felt bad for him, he can barely speak to anyone. As I look back up, he stares at me anxiously.

“So… um, what are your interests?” Ben asks, though it is barely audible.

So he does talk?

Quirking an eyebrow, I can’t help but smile ever so slightly as my lips curl into a smile I can’t stop. My lips part and I reply.

“Well, I do volleyball here at UNC,” I start. “But, it’s my dream to become a surgeon. After UNC I am applying to med schools, pray that I get into one.”

I watch as Ben’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s cool. I wish I was that smart to have the confidence to become a surgeon.”

“I’m sure you are very smart,” I reply, a bit shocked.

Ben blushes softly, looking up at me with a small smile lingering on his lips. It makes me smile as I ask the same question. “How about you?”

Ben’s eyes shift between different objects around the area. He starts to stutter and I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t need to answer—”

“No. Sorry, it just takes me a moment to think. I… I do ice skating. I have been since I was three. I always loved it with a great passion, and ever since I was young I wanted to participate in the Olympics. I still do,” he murmured quietly, though I still understood him perfectly.

“Wow,” I say in awe. I notice how his eyes narrow down on me while continuing. “That… that is a big dream you—”

“Yeah, I know. People have already told me I can’t do it,” he interrupts. His lips curl into a soft frown as his eyes shift down from mine and back to the oak table. I have sympathy for him, besides barely being able to speak, he lacks self confidence. 

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” I reply in a defensive manner. “That is an  _ amazing _ goal, why do you put yourself down like that? Why do you assume what I am going to say?” I ask, leaning forward.

Ben bites his lip self consciously, and I can only imagine what could be going through his head. He remains silent as he fidgets with that same spoon he was holding. _ Nervous antic. _ I learned it in public health in my Sophomore year. He blinks several times, squeezing the spoon in his hand as he looks back up at me and his lips part. “Just… it is trauma,” he replies bluntly. 

_ What the hell is that supposed to mean?  _ I want to ask him, but would it be rude, nosy even? He looks so uncomfortable, so sad. I sigh softly. “Anyways, do you like anything else?”

“No.”

Sighing softly, I search for anything to talk about. Anything. Then, the thought of him skating at the rink fills my mind, making me smile. “Well,” I start, clearing my throat. “I saw you at the rink yesterday. You are really good.”

Ben blushes and his eyes widened. “Oh, um” —he pauses as he looks at his damaged fingers, calluses in every crevice every little curl and groove of his palm— “Thank you. I am not that good though,” he whispers shyly.

“Seriously tall dude,” I say without thinking. He flinches, eyes drifting away as he slouches.  _ I hurt him.  _ Correcting myself quickly, my lips part. “No, nonononono that is not what I meant,” I ramble. A faint frown on his lips, he looks at me, his eyes dull. “I didn't mean to offend you in any way,” I reassure him.

“It’s fine.  _ I’m used to it. _ ” Shit. “I used to get teased about it often, so I have just learned to deal with it.”

_ Shit. Shit. SHIT. DAMMIT MY FUCKING MOUTH. _ The rest of his words are a blur. Muttering a silent curse, I bite my lip anxiously. “I’m sorry, that was not my intention to make you feel bad… nor was I to say that.”

He looks at me expectantly, his fingers still playing with the silver spoon. “Don’t give it too much thought, please.”

His words are barely a whisper, I sigh softly. “Anyways, didn’t you do like three spins? I thought that was so cool—”

I’m interrupted by a very timid, shy, and almost embarrassed answer. “No. No, I can barely do a triple axle,” he starts, a sheepish look laying on his angular face. “That was a double axle. I am still working on a triple. I mean, I have the spins down, just the land. I either collapse or lose balance or something to make my landing look like I am a drunk duck,” he concludes humorously.

I chuckle softly, a small smile on my lips. “I am positive you don’t look like a drunk duck! I mean, I haven’t seen you properly, just that one time but, I don’t think you’d look like a… a drunk duck,” I say quietly. I look up at him, he’s smiling.

Lips closed over his teeth, he runs his hand through his silky hair. “So, what do—”

“Here is your food.”

I look up, the waiter standing there, placing ceramic plates down onto the rustic table. “Thank you,” I say graciously, looking up at him and sliding plates down the table, a screech erupting from the friction. I bit my lip, eyes shifting between different platters of food in every colour. The waiter walks away.

The time passes like a blur, but my mind keeps coming back to how grateful I am that Ben came to my aid, being a complete stranger, and he still is. The time comes to pay, making me anxious at the thought, and I pray that I have enough credits. I’m running out of Unkar’s fortune, I can’t afford to pay for dinner. I can’t. But I have to. I smile at Ben before glancing down into my beige, woven, crossbody bag: phone, receipts, unpaid bills, gum,  _ credits _ . Reaching my hands into the bag, I pull the black, silver, copper, and gold coloured slabs, lines engraved into it,  _ I only have one of each _ . Letting out a sigh of distress, I look at him, his warm brown eyes staring at me tenderly, I continue searching.

I have searched my entire bag now, and there is nothing than those three slabs, barely enough to pay for my own meal. I continue searching hopelessly, but I stop, when I feel a warm hand on my arm. My eyes shot up at him, he sits back and I see the credits shining on the oak table. They aren’t mine, they’re his. Worry flashes through my eyes, but he smiles at me, such a friendly gaze. “Don’t worry about it, I can pay,” he offers kindly.

Distress. Fear. Yet, relief. I sniffle, no tears forming in my eyes as I straighten my posture. “I can’t let you pay, you were kind enough to come help me out, without even knowing who the hell I am. I’ll pay,” I muttered sadly.

Ben frowns. “It’s fine, let me pay—” he eyes my bag, knowing it is empty, empty, empty; he knows I have no money “—think of it as a gift. Accept it,” he concludes, his crooked smile soothing me.

I smile weakly, “Thank you.”

He replies with a mere smile as he counts the credits, handing them to the waiter as they walk by. I run my hand through my hair, looking down at my lap. I sit there for a while, staring at my lap, in deep thought. I remember hearing the clank of the credits dropping on the table but don’t give it much thought. I continue to stare, getting ready to face his concerned gaze, but when I look up, he is gone.

He is no longer sitting in the chair. I look around, no sign of him. I look back to the chair, but the glimmer of a shining credit catches my eye. I look down.

There is a pile of credits, gleaming in every colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
>  “Don’t give to get. Give to inspire others to give.”  
>  \- Simon Sinek  
> Sorry about the late update, I have been going through some stuff and also didn’t have much motivation for this chapter as I did with the others. I was also lacking creativity, so don’t mind my poor writing please. I am going to update in the next week or two because I am busy writing essays for applications. Also, if you have any suggestions for this story, please feel free to comment them because I need more motivation, because I am dark and twisty. AND, I am currently making a playlist for this fanfic and I will put the link below. 🙈 Love you guys, thank you. 💕
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vXQvg7CnlHW6jeEvJNtlI


	7. Chapter 5 ~ Ben (+*PART 1*+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did Ben go?

After meeting up with Rey, by accident, I no longer feel the pain and anguish I once felt. Instead, a sense of fulfillment, a sense of worthiness, which I have never felt—or at least not in a while.

As I walked to my dorm building, I repeatedly thought of the phrase she said, ‘ _ tall dude _ ’. I know I shouldn’t have let it hurt me as much as it did, I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive. I am used to it after all. 

I remember that time, I was merely nine, and was almost five feet tall.

***

“Leia darling, he is going to get teased until the end of daylight,” Han yelled gently as he turned Leia to him. She snarled and walked away, her nightgown flowing and hair shining with the pillars of moonlight that peeked through the blinds. “We can’t send him!”

Leia turned, slapping Han’s face. “Well this is barely anything to what is out there in the real world. Being tall isn’t a thing he should be ashamed about. I’d be surprised if any of the students were to tease him rather than be in utter awe!”

Han seethed, locking eyes with hers. “But what if  _ those _ kids aren’t like your child? What if they aren’t shy and timid… and kind and sweet?! What if those kids are bullies and like to pick on people unlike the rest?” Han exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

Leia rolled her eyes. “Ben needs to learn how to fend for himself,” she said bluntly. Han sighed getting into his side of the bed as Leia journeyed to the other side and sat down on the edge, sliding her slippers off and tucking her feet underneath the sheets. Han did the same, turning on his side to face Leia, a small frown on his face. Leia clicked her tongue and reached her hand to the angular features of Han’s face. “Our son is going to be okay.”

Han closed his eyes, arms wrapping around Leia and bringing her into his hold as he turned off the last lamp illuminating the room. As Leia drifted to sleep, Han stayed awake. He stared, and stared, and stared for what seemed of an eternity. But just as he was about to drift to sleep, he heard sniffling.

Ears perked, he checked Leia, she was fast asleep. He sat up slowly, looking around the dark room illuminated with the pure essence of moonlight. Sighing softly as he rested back down on the bed:  _ sniffle _ . He sat up again and saw the classic tuft of black hair outside the room, sitting on the stairwell and head buried in his hands. Ben. His Ben. Han threw the sheets over his legs and quietly got out of bed, simply in his black boxers and gray t-shirt. Walking out of the room, he came to Ben, placing a gentle hand on his back. Ben flinched as he turned around quickly, seeing the face of his father soothing him immediately. Han then sat down on the same step, reaching behind him to close the door to his and Leia’s room.

“Why are you up so late, kid?” Han asked warmly, warping an arm around his son’s shoulders and a soft smile.

“I couldn’t go to sleep, Daddy,” he replied quietly.

Eyes drifting away from Han, Han reached his hand out and turned Ben’s face with his fingers under his chin. “Well, what’s keeping you up, son?”

“Nothing.”

Han smirked. “I know you're lying, little bandit.” Han chuckled and started tickling Ben who giggled and fussed. Han finished, laughing softly as Ben laughed hysterically. Seeing his son laugh made Han’s heart flutter.

As Ben eased down, his smile slowly turned into a frown, and his frown turned into tears. Han frowned as well, hugging his son close to his chest. “What’s wrong, son? You have nothing to be afraid of, I am your father. I will always love you no matter what.”

Ben cried into his father’s chest. “Am I going to be teased? You and Mommy were fighting, she was- was saying that I’d be fine but you kept saying I wouldn’t!” Ben cried. “ _ Will I be fine _ ?”

Han’s heart shattered. Shattered into a billion pieces. Holding back tears, he put his hands on Ben’s shoulders, pushing him out so Ben could see Han’s face clearly. “Son, there is something you need to learn. Something that sadly, I never taught you from the start.” Han stood up, helping his son up as he led him into his room with glow in the dark star stickers pasted all over the ceiling. “Now son, look at all the glowing stars. What do you see?”

“I see glowing stars?” Ben questions.

“What else do you see?” Han asked, gazing at his  _ perfect  _ son as he stared at the faux stars.

“They are all in different places?” Ben questions, having no clue on what else to say.

Han chuckled, “Yes.” He paused and smiled for a mere moment. “But there is also something else.”

“What?” Ben asked enthusiastically.

“They are all different shapes, different sizes, different colors. See?” Han watched as Ben’s eyes widened with excitement, the tears drying from his face. Ben nodded with a smile lingering on his lips. “Well, stars… are just like us. Each star is different and has their own unique feature. And that, son, that is nothing to be ashamed of.” Han looked down to his son, kneeling down beside him as Ben sat on his leg. “You are tall, so what? That makes you unique. You are your own person, not anyone else.”

Ben sniffled. “But… people at my old school said it was weird to be so tall.”

Han smiled warmly. “Well, they’re assholes.”

Ben gasped. “You said a bad word!” Ben started to laugh and Han laughed with him.

Ben started to feel better as Han added to his monologue. “And… being tall is not what matters. What matters is who you are on the inside, and you, my son, you are the most perfect, kind human being I have ever met. Your heart is so pure and full of love, and we need more people like that, my son.”

“I’m kinder than Mommy?”

Han snickered and brushed his bangs out of his face. “Ben, anyone is kinder than Mommy.”

Ben snorted. “Then why would you marry her?”

“Because I love her anyway. She is my moon, and you are my sun.”

Ben smiled and rested in his father’s embrace. “How was I made?”

Han’s eyes widened in a sort of terror. “Son, you really don’t want to know.”

“I do!”

“You don’t!”

“I DO!”

Han sighed. “Son—” Han paused for a short moment, containing a smile “—it is called… sex.”

“SEX?!”

“Shush!! Don’t tell your mother I told you or my head will get chopped off,” Han hushed.

Ben nodded obediently, giggling as he rested his head on his fathers chest, the rise and fall of his breath soothing him.

“What is that?”

“Son, it is something you do when you love someone so much you can’t contain that love. So… you make another person to share that love with. And I am so happy I did because I had you, my beaming sun. You are the one thing in this life that I love more than anything.”

“Even Mom?”

“Even Mom,” Han reassured, an evident smile on his face. “Now you don’t tell her I said that as well!”

“I won’t,” Ben cooed.

“And also, don’t have sex till your older, like my age, better yet, don’t have sex. Never because that isn’t good, son. Your mother will kill you, firstly. Secondly, just don’t,” Han laughed. “Because you are also the most handsome man that I know, and a lot of girls… or boys, are going to want you. Tell them you are waiting for the love of your life.”

“But the love of my life is  _ Phasma _ .”

“Oh, so you have a crush on her?” Han smirked, tickling his blushing son.

Ben didn’t answer, but based off the evident smile on his face, Han knew.

They calmed, a beautiful silence filling the room of which was Ben’s breathing. “Son, going back to my main point, being tall, is a gift. A gift many people want. Just because some bullies say that being tall is weird, doesn’t mean they meant it. They are probably just jealous and need someone to pick on, son. But never, ever, let anyone tell you, you’re worth nothing or you look weird, because you are worth the world, son. I love you to the moon and back, and you are my sunshine. My beaming light of sunshine that has kept me alive for far longer than I anticipated.”

Ben cried softly, jumping into his fathers arms as Han hugged him tightly. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Han hugged his insecure child, his heart so easily splintered, easily broken. That’s when Ben murmured something else. “Dad, I actually don’t want to become a pilot.” Han smirked and backed away to get a clearer version of his son. Ben had always aspired to be a pilot like his father,  _ or so he said. _

“Really? What do you want to be?” Han asked affectionately.

Ben blushed, his bangs covering his eyes. “I want to become a figure skater,” he explained shyly. “But everyone I tell, tells me it’s a ‘girl’s’ sport.”

Han smiled. “If you want to become a figure skater, go become a figure skater, son. If the world says you can’t, prove them wrong and show them you are the best.”

Ben smiled, hugging Han and Han hugged him back. “You should sleep now son. You have ice skating practice tomorrow, and if you want to become the best, you need to get some rest.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay, my son.”

Han stood up, watching as Ben stood up and sat in his bed. Han walked over to the bed and tucked him in, kissing his forehead.

Ben smiled as he closed his eyes and turned on his side, watching Han walk out the door and stand by the door frame.

“Good night, Dad.”

“Good night,  _ kid _ .”

***

I chuckled in remembrance of the massive crush I had on Phasma, it was embarrassing. But, tears well in my eyes at the fond memory, so vivid, so pure.  _ I love you, Dad _ .

I can’t bear to think of his death again, and walk into the dorm complex and up into my dorm. Closing the door, Hennix’s voice comes after the slam.

“I was getting worried about you. You took longer to get back than you normally do,” he concludes sarcastically.

“I had to do something,” I reply bluntly.

“Okay…”

I let out an exasperated sigh, walking over to my bed and setting my ice skating gear down underneath the frame. Shoving it underneath, I glance over at the bathroom, the glimmer or the razor blade gleaming at the edge of my eye. It rests on the wooden dresser UNC provided us with in the dorms, the shimmering blade attracting me, pulling me towards the darkness.

Hesitantly, I stalk over, my hand reaching for the blade that would cut into my own flesh, spill my blood. My hand shakes as I take the knife into my careful hold, the silver blade shining under the light. I observe the drops of dried blood on the sharp edge, a shuddering breath escaping my lips—  _ Ben, if you are not clean for at least one week, I am telling your mother. _

I gaze at the blade for a short moment, before grabbing the translucent cap and covering the cap over the blade before placing it down, behind the lamp. Before I can change my mind on whether I am to spill more of my blood, or not, I quickly grab my loose fitting pajama pants and a plain white undershirt and pace into the bathroom.

My pants fall to the floor in a scrunched pile with everything else. I turn to the mirror, my naked, vulnerable body reflecting itself back on me. Walking up closer, I search closely at the bandages, carefully taking them off - revealing the horrifying scars. A small gasp escapes my lips at the giant… giant scar running down my stomach. I quiver, my fingers gently grazing over the alarming cuts before I quickly slip down my boxers and turn on the shower water to lukewarm, to hopefully not enhance the pain in every cut I have.

Rivulets of water stream down my raw, wounded body. I feel every stream, every drop of warm water, tickling my skin with a gentle touch. I look in the mirror, my hair sticks to my skin, my wounds are reddened. Sighing, I quickly slip on my night pants, and look for the bandages.

Bandages.

_ Bandages _ .

Shit.

I open the door to the bathroom, only peeking out my head as steam rushes out. Hennix isn’t there. The unavoidable silence fills the air as I quickly rush out and grab the large bandages on the dresser, rushing back into the bathroom and slamming the door. But, I am too late.

Crimson blood drips down my abdomen, my cuts are red.

I let out a soft, strangled sob. “Dammit!”

I grab a paper towel and extract the blood streaming down my skin. I breathe a hiss, the pressure of my fingers on my abdomen unbearable as I clean up the wounds and start bandaging them up.

Hastily, I start bandaging my stomach until it’s secure. I check in the mirror, reassuring myself that the bandages will hold before slipping on my red t-shirt and walking out the musty, damp room. Hennix now sitting back at his desk with his computer open, and his fingers slapping against the keys vigorously.

“What are you typing?” I ask curiously as I walk to my bed in the room beside him, throwing my dirtied clothes into the hamper carrier.

“Working on a journal entry for journalism. You still have to do that entry,” he mutters, continuing to work frantically.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem, it’s due next week,” he says, eyes shifting up to mine as he gets up and starts closing the door between our small rooms. “Sleep well.”

The wooden door closed with a creak and the soft thud of the wood against the door frame. I let out a sigh, grabbing my computer from my backpack and the charger, plugging it in as I pull out my phone. It’s an old phone. You can tell by the cracks on the screen.

Turning it on, I see the picture of me and Phasma. We were so happy, so close. She was the only friend I had, my only friend. I let her drag me down to Snoke, I let her. I shouldn’t have. And why the hell do I still have her in my screensaver?

I unlock my phone, going to settings and tapping the wallpaper widget. The black screen pops up and I change the screensaver, to a picture of my mother and my father. Her warm smile is vibrant and contagious, making me smile. My mom was always tough on me… but, I still love her. And my father, I will never stop blaming myself for his death, never. It’s my fault. Mine.

I turn off my phone, setting it down away from me and falling onto my bed. Tucking myself in, I go to sleep, or try to. I stay up for hours, restless and annoyed. I can’t sleep. I turn to my side and stare at the wall, pulling the covers up my body and hiding underneath them. That’s when my eyes close, and stay closed through the night.

***

I rush out of journalism, holding the straps to my backpack as I pace over to the other side of campus for my next class that starts soon. Everything is fine, nothing is chaotic for once. Or so I think.

I glance over to my right, seven men with black facial masks and all dark hair, except one. Orange hair. I roll my eyes, what the hell does he want now?

I start to the building where my next lecture takes place as the group of men trail closely behind me. Feeling threatened, I walk quicker, and quicker, and quicker. They continue to trail behind me, closely, stealthily. Sighing, I walk into an alleyway, thinking the building I need to get to was on the other side, but I am wrong. Terribly wrong.

It’s a dead end, and the group of men had already entered the corridor, I can’t leave. I walk until there is no more ground to walk, turning around.

“What do you want?” I shout.

Hux sneers, walking closer.

He doesn’t reply as the men corner me.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> “The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence.”
> 
> \- Unknown
> 
> Quick note, I changed Ben’s roommate from ‘Oliver’ to ‘Hennix’. I did this because it correlates with Ben’s life in the Star Wars universe more. Also writing the flashback made my cry, actually. Love you guys. Thank you!


	8. Chapter 6 ~ Rey (+*Part 1*+)

“ _ Who did this to you _ ?” I ask gently as his eyes open then close on a continuous cycle. He hesitates to answer, you can tell by the look in his eyes, such raw fear, reluctance, vacillation. I shouldn’t push him to answer, or should I? He looks at me with such expressive eyes, it could tell a tale. My lips curl into a frown, waiting for an answer, but nothing comes. He is dead silent, only his heavy breathing as he clears his throat, attempting to make it quiet.

I sigh before standing up, strolling over to Finn and Poe who were gracious enough to let me bring Ben here; I don’t know where he lives, where he’s from, who he is besides the person who sat at the table with me when no one else would.

“Thank you,” I whisper meekly into Finn’s ear. He looks at me with wide eyes, concern visible on his features as he grabs my wrist gently and pulls me outside the dorm.

“What the hell?!” he yells quietly, closing the door and searching the hallway, making sure no one was passing by.

“I’m sorry, Finn. I found him on the ground in the middle of an alleyway, he couldn’t stand on his own. He…” I pause, looking down inside my tote bag, seeing the gleaming credits he left at the table. Biting my lip, I look at him with sad eyes. “He is the one that gave me these.”

Finn’s eyes widen at the credits, an essence of joy traced on his lips. “How… what? We… he gave all of those credits to you? Why? How? Rey, this could put you a month out of debt! This.. this—”

“I know, Finn,” I whisper. “He was the one that sat at the table with me. He… before he left, he had left these on the table in front of me.”

Finn nods, hands resting on his hips as he looks around the hallway. “I am going to get Poe,” he mutters before twisting the doorknob and walking in. Poe struts out, a sort of angry expression on his face.

I look down as the door clicks shut.

“What the fuck, Rey?” he asks, strain in his tone.

“Dude, please. He helped me last week, just please let him stay here until I can figure out where he lives, then I can bring him there.”

“Or you can take him to a damn hospital like any other normal human. You could have called fucking nine-one-one! You could have—”

“When I suggested the idea, he panicked. The only way I was able to calm him down is when I said I wouldn’t call nine-one-one.”

“So you brought him to my dorm. Well, shit. He could be a damn serial killer!” I watch as his hands crossover his abdomen, most of his weight resting on his right leg.

“He probably isn’t. Poe, I’m sorry. If you won’t do it for him, do it for me, please?”

Poe sighs softly, taking a hand off his hand and running it through his hair. “Rey, I am only doing this because I love you, and the only reason I love you is because my boyfriend loves you, so say thank you to him,” he murmurs.

“I know,” I reply dully. “I know.”

Poe clicks his tongue for walking back in, holding the door open for me as I trail behind him. As I walk back in, I walk over to Ben, his eyes wide as he tenses in my presence.

“Your name is Ben, correct?” I ask kindly, kneeling down on the floor and meeting his height to the low bed.

“Yes…. I’m… I’m so sor… sorry,” he whimpers, voice breaking. All I can do is frown slightly.

“It’s okay, Ben. Do you know any place I can take you? To get help? Or anyone you trust?” I whisper, trying to soothe him as much as I can.

He’s quiet for a moment, breathing in heavily as he reaches to his hip, searching for something in his pocket. He pulls out his phone, smaller than his hand. A small sob escapes his lips as his hand drifts over a cut. “Amilyn,” he forces out. He unlocks his phone, handing it to me. “In my— my contacts... Amilyn Holdo.”

I nod, finding the contact and calling them.

It rings for a moment, the only noise is his heavy breath. There is a click, then a mature voice of a woman.

“Hello?” the voice questions, the occasional break between dialogue through the phone. 

“Hey,” I say softly. “My name is Rey, and you are probably wondering why I picked up the phone?”

“Yea,” she says into the speaker, questioning in her tone.

“So, I’m afraid Ben got into an accident, of… some sort.”

I can hear her breath catch, a sense of panic. Hearing her pace around, she stammers quietly, muttering a curse. “What happened?”

“I'm not sure but he is here at my friend’s dorm currently. He is laying in bed and resting, but I was wondering if you’d like to try and come pick him up because he can barely walk,” I sigh, knowing I should’ve called nine-one-one.

“You didn’t take him to a hospital?”

“No, he panicked. But I will text you the building and room number if that is okay with you?” I question.

“Okay, but can I speak to Ben very quickly?”

I nod, even though it is pointless because she can’t see me. I grip the phone loosely, and hand it to Ben, he squirms as he reaches out for the phone.

I can only hear the faint murmur of Amilyn speaking, and the replies of Ben, his voice breaking occasionally.

“No, I’m fine Amilyn. Just, can you come please?” he mumbles quietly, a small tear tracking down his face.

I look at him sadly, leaning on a wall as he hangs up.

After texting Amilyn the building and dorm number, it takes less than five minutes for everyone to hear a knock on the door. Watching Poe walk to the door, he opens it and a lean, older lady with purple hair, and an obviously worried expression on her face, grips her back against her hip, scanning the room. Poe welcomes her in as she rushes to the bed Ben is resting on.

“Oh my gosh, what happened to you?” She asks worriedly as she kneels down and examines the cuts on his forehead.

Ben doesn’t reply, only a slightly guilty expression on his face as struggles to sit up. Amilyn grips his back, supporting him up. He then turns and faces Amilyn, a frown on his face.

“Come on, Ben. Let’s go, can you stand?” Amilyn asks kindly. Again, he doesn’t reply, trying to stand up, succeeding with great pain.

“I guess I can.”

***

“Midterms are next week, make sure to study,” the professor announces to the lousy class. We all sigh, quietly.

It has been a week since I found his limp body on the cold hard concrete of the deserted alleyway. Since then, he has been on my mind, more. Every day and night, from when I close my eyes to sleep, to when sunshine peeks into my dorm room, and I open my eyes. He is my first thought every day, my last thought every night. He is in my mind when I don’t know what to think of, his voice echoes in my mind. I haven’t seen him since that day. I haven’t seen him at the skating rink, not like I go there, I haven’t seen him walking from building to building.

Quickly, I stuff my backpack with my countless notebooks all while struggling to zip it up. Tossing the bag around my body, I run out of the giant lecture hall, out of the building. I have three hours before my last class of the day, and nothing to do. I had finished all my work, I know all the material for my midterms, but I guess I can study that in my time.

I start heading to the dorm building.

As I arrive, I walk up the stairs and through the hall, not taking my eyes off my phone as I checked to see if I have practice tomorrow. Thankfully—

I yelp as I stumble back a few steps, looking up at the tall figure.

“Oh, hi, Ben?” I say, wondering why he is here.

“Uh, sorry. I.. um- well—” he fumbles with a keychain anxiously “— I was just searching for… your dorm because.. I— I just wanted to thank you…. erm for helping me last week - I—”

He is nervous, it’s obvious. I reach out slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder, calming him down. “It’s all good. I really don’t mind, don’t worry about it.”

Ben nods barely. I notice the cut on his head, it has healed somewhat. “Um… how is your cut?” I ask quietly, taking my hand from his shoulder.

“Um…  _ I’m used _ to the pain, so it hasn’t bugged me much. I mean, it is healing, so I guess that is good.”

Quirking an eyebrow, I nod awkwardly. ‘That is good. Um, I’m sorry, did you want to come in?”

His eyes widen, “Oh, no no no nononono, I mean, I just wanted to say thank you.” He smiles awkwardly, running a hand through his sky hair.

I smile kindly, grabbing my keys as I open my door to my dorm, “Okay. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me,” I reassure.

He nods, smiling softly, such a warm smile. I nod back, watching as he walks away, hearing the faint giggling of Finn and Poe from the other side of the building. Oh, lord.

Ben disappears into the elevator and then Finn and Poe appear from their dorm, smirking towards me.

“What do you buttheads want?!” I shout from across the hall, forcing out a laugh.

“Poe is convinced that Ben is your—” he stops and starts wiggling his eyebrows.

“NO. Nonononono no, I mean I can admit he is really cute but—”

A shriek comes out of their room, of which is Poe’s voice.

Finn chuckles. “Even if y’all aren’t into each other, I can see it,” Finn shouts as he walks into his dorm. “Love you, dude!” He shouts.

I laugh and walk back into my dorm as my own words replay in my mind, “he’s cute”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> “There is something about you… something.”  
> Unknown
> 
> SORRY THIS CHAPTER SUCKSSSSSSS. I think all my Rey chapters suck because I really am into Ben’s story so, sorry if these are cringy af and also dry. And I am also really sorry that it took me so long to update, my father was in the hospital with covid and sadly, I got it really bad as well. But thank you for reading :))))


	9. Chapter 7 ~ Ben (+*Part 1*+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk through the park is always nice!

My fingers tap anxiously on the stained wooden table as my foot knocks against the floor. I look over out the open window of the cafe, my black hair covering the corner of my eye and blocking any peripheral vision I once had. Amilyn’s footsteps grow louder as she gets closer, settling herself on the other side of the booth. Her pink hair glows in the little amount of sunshine peeking through the window as she hands me the cyan, clay mug, a dollop of white whip cream on top of my hot chocolate, with marshmallows, of course. In Amilyn’s purple, clay mug, there is pure, black coffee. It continues to appall me to this day how anyone could drink something so bitter, and overall disgusting. But I guess I’m biased. I  _ hate _ coffee. Despise it.

“I still can’t understand how you can just drink pure, black coffee,” I murmur, grabbing a silver spoon and scooping the whipped cream and spooning it into my mouth, as per usual. The consistency is thick, not thin, just like my life. It’s full of crap. 

“And I still don’t understand how you hate coffee so much,” she replies in her notorious sarcastic attitude. I roll my eyes out of mere instinct, gripping the handhold on the mug tightly as I adjust my position to face Amilyn more comfortably.

“Well, then,” I say simply, taking another sip of my hot chocolate, burning the back of my throat as I swallow it.

“How many days clean are you?” She asks off the bat.

I pull out my phone, showing her my app where I track it, “Seven days, three hours, and four minutes, going on five.”

“Well, what can I say? You did it, Ben. Was it  _ that _ hard?” She asks casually, not knowing the true pain of having to resist the urge to cut into your flesh. To not hurt yourself. To not feel like you deserve it. 

“It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do,” I say uncomfortably, shamefully. “I almost ruined it today, before I came here. I was so close, I just wanted to feel something, because most of the time…” I stop myself, searching for her expression, not comprehending why I am talking about this so openly. “I am so emotionally numb sometimes, and an emotional wreck the other days. I - I hate it. I hate life. I fucking hate this shit!” I yell. I look around, praying no one heard, and thankfully, there were only two other customers, nowhere near where we are sitting. Amilyn sighs, looking down at her black coffee and swallowing hard. She can’t say anything, nor does she have anything to say. I look at her in her blue eyes, a broken expression across my face. “I can’t do this.” My fist falls onto the table naturally.

“What do you mean, Ben?” Amilyn asks, brokenly.

“The only thing between me and death is  _ fear _ . The only reason why I won’t go kill myself right now is that I am scared to… but that’s a good thing, I guess,” I reply. I look down at my lap, “What is the meaning of life?”

Amilyn looks at me, searching my hesitant gaze all while trying to formulate an answer, but nothing comes out. She just looks at me, having no answer herself. Life is pointless. Life is just to devastate unlucky people or give others the best life ever. Sadly, I was, and I am, one of those unlucky people.

I stay quiet in the awkward silence. The only subtle clatter of mugs and plates being settled onto wooden tables, and the clacks of the kitchen workers. 

Amilyn continues to stare into my eyes, her lips parting. “I don’t have an answer. But I am proud of you Ben. Just don’t continue, try and get to two weeks, then three. I’ll help you through it, Ben.”

I gaze into her blue eyes, biting the side of my lip. “ _ I’ll try _ .”

***

Blood drips down my stomach. I failed. A single tear slides down my face as I drag the bloodied blade across my skin. In a sense, I feel relieved, but in another, I feel like I am failing. I  _ am _ failing. I repeat this four more times. Grazing the blade over my skin, only cutting the layer of skin, but no flesh, I whimper. I deserve pain. I deserve misery,  _ after what I did _ .

I swallow hard, containing a mountain of tears before placing the blade on the bathroom counter. I grab two large bandages, after cleaning my stomach from the red blood. Everything stings, I had only cut my stomach, yet my body feels like it’s on fire. I carefully wipe all the blood off, placing the bandages over the several wounds I just gave myself, then grabbing the other tape-type bandage wrapping it around the bandages and my entire stomach, so they stay in place. My breath hallows anxiously, as I only realize that I have to get to ice skating practice.

Shit.

I hustle quickly, putting on an undershirt before putting on my black t-shirt. And then over that, a black hoodie. I stand myself up, before running out of my dorm, with my heavy duffle bag, and to the skating rink.

***

“So, you got hurt?” Coach asks me concerned as I step onto the ice, the cold air making my cheeks flush pink.

“Yea, I sprained my ankle, but I’m better now,” I mutter monotonously. I skate around in small confined circles, my mind drifting elsewhere. The ice makes a creak as I stop myself, my foot still sliding but my other keeping me in place.

The slight feeling of liquid dripping down my abdomen fills my mind.

_ Don’t leak. _

_ Don’t leak. _

_ Don’t leak. _

“Are you going to stand around there all day?”

I blink, looking up at Coach’s distressed expression. “Yea, yea… I’m coming.”

The two and a half hour practice goes by like a blur, I came up with a simple draft of my routine for the competition next year, and finally chose a song.

I skate around the rink again, building momentum before leaping in the air, and attempting to spin three times. I land at the half-way more of the second spin, collapsing as my skates make an awful screeching plea. I land hard on the ice, a cut enduring on my face which I can’t comprehend how I got. My body slams onto the brisk ice as my hair is tousled in front of my face. I let out a gasp for breath, blood dripping down my cheek.

Groaning softly, Coach skates over to me. “Are you okay?” He kneels, helping me sit up as he searches the cut on my face.

“Yep, totally fine,” I say, strained. I sit up, groaning again before standing up and looking around. Everyone’s eyes landed on me, every single pair. I let in a deep breath, turning around and seeing those friendly brown eyes. They’re warm and soft, and so familiar.

Rey.

I perk an eyebrow curiously, why is she here? She stands by the edge of the rink, leaning forwards and looking at me concerned. My breath catches slightly as I stand there, in some state of shock.

“Let’s end practice here,” Coach says, patting his hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, please,” I whisper. Looking down, I skate to the exit of the rink, stepping off with ease and walking straight to the locker room.

I open my lock while taking off my skates, putting the guards over the thick blade, and placing them in my duffle bag. Closing the zipper, I throw the bag around my shoulder, completely forgetting about the cut I have. I walk out of the ill-smelling room, looking at my feet as I walk down the long walkway by the rink, only to bump into something.

“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry,” I say, looking up. It’s Rey.

She smiles kindly. “It’s fine, really, but… how are you doing?” She asks, eyes the cut on my cheek.

I bite my lip, looking from her eyes, down to her feet. “Um… I’ve been better. I- well… What brings you here today? I usually don’t see you here at the rink…”

Rey smiles at the corner of her mouth. “I… actually came here, hoping to see you?”

“Me?”

She nods.

“Why?”

Rey’s eyes narrow on me, pursing her lips. “Well, I was hoping to talk to you, maybe go on a stroll?” She implies.

My hand drifts to my pocket. “A stroll?”

“Yes.”

My head tilts in question, looking down at my own feet. “Sure,” I reply blandly.

She smiles. “Okay, um… right now?”

“Sure.”

I grin, slightly, gazing into her eyes. Rey smiles and turns as we walk out of the building together. We walk in the Fall wind, an awkward silence remaining upon us. I adjust my duffle bag, so it rests more comfortably on my shoulder.

“Umm…” Rey starts, breaking the silence. “So… what move was it that you were doing?”

“Triple axle. I have been trying to do it for months on end, and I want to put it in my routine for the competition, but I am not sure I will be able to do it,” I respond.

“I’m sure you can… I can barely stand on ice, but to be fair… I grew up in a desert,” she laughs softly.

“Which one?” I ask intrigued as we walk in the light breeze.

“Jakku. There is literally nothing, except Niima village. There is a pawn shop, car dealer, school, and grocery store, that’s it.”

“Damn. My uncle grew up in Tatooine.”

“Really?” She questions.

I grin. “Yea…”

“Where did you grow up?” She asks as she holds her jacket close to her stomach, her cheeks tinged pink in the autumn wind.

“I was born and raised in Chandrila. My mother then insisted on moving to Alderaan, which is where she grew up. And now I am in this bustling city of Coruscant,” I say.

Rey smiles. “I lived in Jakku my entire life, and then finally, the opportunity for people to come to UNC approached itself, I immediately took it.”

“Nice…” I reply dully.

“So, what's your favorite color?” She asks, laughing.

I snort. “Red, you?”

“Yellow. Favorite animal?”

“Butterfly or wolf, you?”

“Snake or chameleon. Favorite time of day?”

“I don’t know, midnight?

“Dawn. Favorite movie?”

“Erm… The Parent Trap.”

Rey lets out a wheezing laugh, grinning. “The Parent Trap?! Actually?!”

“Yea, what’s wrong with it?” I ask, smiling.

“Nothing, it’s just sort of hilarious. Not sure why. How about your favorite book?”

“Umm… I guess Pride and Prejudice? You?”

“Twilight Saga.”

“Seriously? I read them all in one sitting, they suck!” I laugh as she giggles.

“Of course, it’s a common straight person couple. A white vampire meets a white girl, he gives her a look, they fall in love. Like… it sucks so much but it is so good. Are you team Edward or Jacob?”

“Jacob all the way,” I chuckle. “You?”

“Jacob as well. It is so annoying, it’s just your average cliché. The movies are even worse, like… I swear the writers were drunk when they wrote that.”

The word  _ drunk  _ rings in my mind. My past creeping into my head again, and Snoke handing me a flask, full of strong alcohol. I drink it down, my esophagus burning in flames as it takes it from my mouth, but it is just shoved down my throat by Snoke again. He shoves me to the ground and punches me in my rib cage when I restrain and refuse. “You are a worthless burden. You thug, you're just like your father.  _ You have too much of your father’s heart in you _ .”

“Ben?”

“BEN!”

“Ben.”

“Ben? Are you okay?”

I take a deep breath, looking around. Rey searches me, concerned. And when I realize Rey is not Han, I sigh. “Yea… I’m fine… just I thought of something.”

“What exactly?”

“Erm… nothing important. But… What has brought you to want to go on a walk with me? I’m just weird… socially awkward… I don’t understand.”

“Well, when I saw you in that alleyway after you had dinner with me a previous day, I just wanted to get to know you. I mean… because why not, and I don’t care how socially awkward you may think you are, but you're not. You’re shy, that’s all. And I get—”

“Shy?” I interrupt unexpectedly.

“Yea, shy, timid, bashful. You know what, I am going to call you Bashful from now on, like the dwarfs in Snow White.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Have you seen Snow White?” She asks.

“No.”

“Hmm… forget it, I'm just going to call you Bashful from now on.”

“Okay.”

Rey smiles at me, patting my back and then retrieving her hand to her right pocket. We continue to walk, talking, and laughing before we arrive in front of my dorm building. We stop, continuing to talk for another hour.

“Ben, if you need me at any time, just call me. I don’t want to ask because it might be invading your privacy, but I can understand that a group of people came to you that day I found you in the alley.” She stops, pulling a pen from her backpack pocket and a random piece of paper, scribbling her number, and handing it to me. “Don’t hesitate to call me, okay? I have a few friends who can help too if you need.”

I nod reluctantly, tearing a piece of the paper and grabbing a pen from my back pocket, and writing my number as well. I hand it to her before putting away the pen. She holds the paper delicately.

“Um… also, I just want to thank you again,” she says simply.

“It’s no problem, really. If you need help with anything financial… just call me.”

Rey looks at me with thankful eyes, looking down. Her hair covers one of her eyes before she looks up at me. “I’ll see you around, Bashful,” she says in a cheery, yet calm tone.

“See you around.”

I turn and walk into the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> “If opportunity doesn’t knock, make a door”  
> Milton Berle  
> Sorry, I really think this sucks, not going to lie. I really want to restart but I literally don’t have the strength to do that. Also, I really want to give a huge huge thanks to T1lly1 because they have supported me so much in the past week, and I cannot thank them enough. If you see this, I love you so much. You make my life so much better and bring a new light into my life I never had. Thank you Tills, ilyy. And thank you guys so much for supporting me and reading this crap.  
> Thank you.  
> Maddie


	10. Chapter 8 ~ Rey (+*Part 1*+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more on Rey's background, and where she comes from. But does she come from anywhere?

“So his name is Ben?” Finn asks, taking a quaff from his water bottle instinctively. I eye him carefully, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Yes. His name is Ben,” I reply formally, my eyes shifting from the items on his desk. “He was in one of our courses last year, I forget which one though. He was a tall person, he was quiet, shy. He also seemed to be obsessed with note-taking, he would type it on his computer, then he’d start writing it down on his iPad or something like that. He was just the generally quiet, nice kid. Remember him?” I add, thinking of all the little perks about him that I recognized, but never gave much thought to.

I remember he’d bite his lip when he was nervous or anxious, how whenever we’d take exams he’d have his eyes closed, silently talking and saying all the terms of the unit. It was sometimes funny to watch, but by noticing how his thought process is so thorough, you grow a deeper amount of respect towards him.

“Yes, I remember him, vaguely. He was that nerd-type person,” Finn chuckles. “I recall the note-taking. I only got a small glimpse at his notes but holy crap, it was like he was writing a colour-coded essay, which I would not be able to do.”

Finn snickers, leaning back into his desk chair. I look around his dorm room, it is certainly smaller than mine, but I suppose so. He only lives with Poe, meanwhile, I am living with both Paige and Rose. Of course, I let them have all the larger closet spaces and drawers, it’s not like I can fill it with anything. I don’t have much, considering I come from nothing.

Coming from nothing, you have nothing. You get nothing. You  _ are _ nothing. And some nobodies like me, are fortunate to have found friends, and happiness, while others don’t.

I came from a small village in Jakku.

I am from a small village in Jakku.

I came from Jakku.

I am from Jakku.

**\- November 20, 2014 -**

The twelve-year-old girl who was now thirteen looked at the sand cake she made herself. Beads of sweat make no effort to hide as they dripped down her tan skin. The world was blank. There was nothing to live for, except for the hope of a better future, a better life.

Thirteen-year-old Rey blew the cake, she didn’t have candles. Instead, some of the sand overflowing out of her metal cup flew into the mellow, warm breeze from the slight gust of air she huffed. She frowned, a stray, hot tear sliding down her cheek and into her sand cake.

Rey wished for gifts, for a family. For her parents. She wished for happiness, and not to be held captive as if she were a slave. Who was she kidding, she  _ was _ a slave.

Young Rey stood up, tipping the cup and watching the yellow sand spill out of her metal tin. She wiped the stain on her face from that stray tear, grabbing her staff and whirling it around until it rests behind her arm against her hip. She walked in the sand as usual.

Someone’s birthday is supposed to be a special day where people recognize this person for no apparent reason, but it is enjoyable. But on Rey’s birthday, each year, it was just another day of scavenging for parts to hopefully get portions, the local currency at Niima village.

Rey huffed as she walked to Unkar’s outpost, her messenger bag full of spare parts she found in a wreck. She prayed that maybe she’d get more portions

Rey found her way up to the counter, where her foster father - abuser, sat cackling. He looked at a mask he’d obtained from trading, but once he saw Rey, he rolled his eyes. “What do you want, scavenger?”

“It’s Rey,” she corrected him, not even caring if that would earn her a hit on the face.

“Scavenger scum,” he muttered. “What do you want?”

“I brought you parts,” she mumbled. Rey reaches into her messenger back and pulls out several metal parts, all seemingly worthy of more portions. “And I was wondering… today is my birthday, and I wanted to ask for extra portions?” Rey asked kindly, hoping that she might get more.

Unkar glanced at her ruefully. “Scavenger scum gets no extra portions because today happens to be her birthday. She gets one half-portion,” he said angrily.

“Wait, but these were one portion each last time?” she complained.

Unkar growled, standing up from his seat. He was ugly, beastly. Rey watched terrified as Unkar slammed his large hand into her face. Rey stumbled back and fell onto the sand, grunting as her cheek was awfully red. 

Rey sniffled at the immense, sharp pain resting on her cheek. She stood up, gripping her staff and quickly grabbing the portions. She ran. She ran and ran until she found the little hut she made. She ran inside, packing her things and all the little knick-knacks she held dear to her heart.

That night, while Unkar was asleep, he was robbed of all of his profits and portions, and his foster daughter, slave, ran away.

***

I inhale a sharp breath, looking at Finn. “I love you, dude,” I say randomly.

Finn quirks an eyebrow, noticing the random timing of my words. “Love you too, peanut,” he says with a small smile on his face. That smile turns into a smirk.

“What?” I imply, smiling as I lean forward.

“To what extent have you… befriended this Ben?” he inquires slyly.

I snort. “We’re friends or at least acquaintances, I believe.”

Finn grins, sipping his water. “Uhuh,” he murmurs. “I want to meet him outside from him getting beaten up and along with that, why was he beaten up?” Finn asks in a concerned tone.

“I don’t know… just past beef,” I chuckle. Grabbing a rubber band, I fiddle with it in my hand, staring at Finn’s water and how it gleams in the sunlight peeking through his window. If my past self were to see that water, she’d be begging for it. Being from a desert isn’t interesting. It’s just infinite sand fields that have  _ no _ water.

I gaze at the water, biting my lip. Finn watches me distraughtly, unable to figure out what I am thinking. I chuckle precipitously. I don’t know why I do, but I don’t stop. Laughter is a sign of happiness, or in  _ most _ cases. The small giggle that escaped my mouth is now a beaming laugh. I feel grateful to be able to laugh like this, to feel happiness even after all I have been through, and even with my current struggles. Finn smiles softly leaning back, letting out a small chuckle. It takes a moment for me to calm, but when I do, Finn finally speaks. “So… Rose still isn’t talking to me, but she looked at me the other day.”

“Really?!” I ask, smiling. “See, you guys can make up. It isn’t too hard,” I say quietly.

“I’m anxious though, what if she doesn’t—”

I cut him off abruptly. “Finn, she is just healing. You guys were together for almost a full year, and it was only after that you realized that you weren’t into her, but Poe. That is okay. Of course, it is going to hurt her at first, but she will forgive you. She will accept you as you and then you’ll both be happy,” I finish, taking Finn’s hand into mine. “She will love you, as I love you. Okay?”

Finn smiles and nods, twirling from side to side in his chair. “You know peanut, Poe and I were going to go see a movie on Saturday, so if you want to come?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “Oh Finnigan, I don’t want to third wheel.”

“Maybe you can invite Ben?” He implies. I don’t disregard the idea, but still, feel awkward if I would be interrupting. “I mean, Poe and I were just going to go casually. Not like a date or anything, more like a friend date if you or you and Ben were to come?”

I cross my legs, slouching marginally. My eyes land on the floor, biting my lower lip as my mind rushes with thoughts.

“It’ll give you a chance to introduce us to him, you know? I don’t see him around hanging out with people, so maybe we can?” Finn prompts.

“We can what?” I ask.

“Be his people, friend group type thing if he already doesn’t have one,” Finn confirms. “We can get dinner at Dex’s Diner after the movie, and it’s on Saturday so we don’t have school the next day. You should invite him,” Finn persuades. He places his hand firmly on my shoulder, shaking me gently as a smile lurks onto my face.

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” I say with a simper.

Finn smirks evidently. “Text him,” he pushes.

“Right now? The movie isn’t until Saturday,” I say.

“Yes, right now, peanut.”

I grin as Finn shakes me more. “Fine,” I say, extending out the ‘i’ sarcastically. I turn around, grabbing my phone that rests behind me, opening it up with the lock combination and clicking on the green bubble. Of course, the texting app.

_ Hey, so would you like to come to the movies with me and two of my friends on Saturday and pick up dinner? It’s ok if you can’t or don’t want to! :) _

I tap the send button cautiously, too lazy to check for any typos. Clicking the power button, I place my phone down onto the bed again, looking at Finn. “Where is Poe?” I ask.

“He is taking his final mid-term, later we are going to Joe’s for dinner. Just to relax. Want to come?” Finn invites. Of course, I want to go with him, but I feel guilty. He’ll probably pay for my meal, and I don’t want that. I look down sorrowfully, a frown spread across my face.

“I’ll skip out for tonight, maybe another time?” I suggest, swallowing hard.

“Of course, want me to bring you something?”

“No, I have food back at my dorm,” I whisper reluctantly, knowing it’s a lie.

“Okay, peanut,” he sighs, smiling at me.

I love Finn. He has always been there for me, in my lowest of lows, and my highest of times. He supports me and cares for me unlike anyone else. Even when I make massive, shitty mistakes, he always has my back, and always shows me what I could have done and what to do in the future. He has made me a better person. He has brought out some of the best qualities out of me, even if I can be tedious at times. He understands me in general, and he has taught me how to be optimistic, even in the worst of times. I love him for that. I’ve never romantically loved him, rather a brotherly sisterly way. He is like my older brother, always makes sure I’m safe and protected. I love him.

He kisses me on the forehead before I stand up and throw my messenger bag with my borrowed, school laptop inside, and a few notebooks. “I’m going to head out dude, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

I smile and walk to his door, opening it and walking out, closing the door behind me until I hear the notorious click.

I lied in there. I don’t have anything to eat, nothing at all. My stomach growls quietly and I groan. I reach into my bag, there are spare credits that I had found off the floor of the UNC campus grounds. I smile impishly. That’ll be enough to buy me a small sandwich from a cafe hopefully.

I swallow, letting the credits slip out of my hand back into the safety of my bag as I start my way towards the exit of the dorm building.

As I leave the modern building which fits in with the rest of the city’s architecture, I make my way to the nearby coffee shop, Holdo’s Café. It’s a sunny day out, the wind blowing harshly. It’s a beautiful day. A new day. The random thought sends a mere grin across my face while I walk to the cafe. It’s modern, with an open window that allows sunshine to seep through effortlessly.

I walk towards it and let myself in, a bell ringing as I stride in. A guy with hair dyed red and big black eyes greet me.

“Hello! Once you’re ready, you may place your order with me!” he says cheerfully. His voice is deep, and his smile big. I nod in a greeting tone before walking up and looking at their items.

I look for the cheapest thing. “I’ll take a ham and cheese croissant and a hazelnut coffee, please?” I order and he nods while he types it into the iPad before saying, “Take a seat anywhere you want ma’am.”

Shifting my feet so they are directed towards the parade of empty tables, I seat myself at the booth nearby the window. The booth where I sit provides a nice view of the trees outside, but also the hallway that separates the kitchen and the bathrooms, plus a staff room and a back exit.

I stare at the sign on the wall that reads, “ _ Dreams don’t work unless you do - John C. Maxwell _ .” The quote captivates me, the cursive letters drawing my attention even more. It’s a beautiful quote.

The guy with red hair walks to me with a plate in his hand and a clay mug in the other. It’s a cyan mug, with speckled, white spots on it. “Thank you,” I murmur as he sets the ceramic tableware down on the dark, stained wooden table. He nods and walks away.

I immediately start eating. I haven’t eaten a full meal in four days and survived off of instant ramen packets that come in packs of thirty for ten credits. You get sick of them after having it once a day for a week, now think about having them as your only meal every day for a month.

I take a bite out of the simple and plain sandwich, it tastes like heaven. The simplicity of it is insane, but to me, it is a five-course meal. I devour it like an animal.

I had started running low on Unkar’s fortune three years ago, so I had to cut back on basic necessities to live a normal life. I only have a few shirts let alone bottoms, but I survive off of that. My meals are cheap, and nowhere near nutritious. Thankfully, they give students free water on campus, so it is not a priority of mine. The occasion where I do have a meal without someone having to step in pay for me is rare, so rare it barely happens once a month. So eating the sandwich and coffee without someone having to pay for me feels rewarding, I’m proud. Proud of myself.

The only thing left on my plate is small crumbs that I couldn’t get into my mouth without looking like a complete fool. I sit back in my booth, my stomach mostly full for once in my life. Sitting there, I take a sip of my coffee, quietly. Everything is quiet and calm until I hear muffled yelling coming from the staff room. It catches my attention due to the quiet nature of this café and considering there is only me in it besides the staff.

My head snaps in the direction of the noise and I listen subtly, sipping my coffee.

“You can’t tell her! Please, Amilyn! Please. It’ll only break her after my father.”

I listen closely. Suddenly the door opens, the voices are now clear. Her’s is calm and stern, and his is so familiar. It’s deep and heavy, yet warm and soft.

His hair peeks out from under his hood, it’s long and black.  _ Ben _ ?

“Amilyn, this will break her if you tell her, I can’t do that to my mother. She doesn’t deserve that,” he pleads.

“Well you doing what your father did will not only break her, it will fucking shatter her. She already isn’t the same without Han, and she won’t be the same if you were to—”

“Shush! There are people here. What I am saying is, if she knew how long this had been going on, it would break her.”

“Yea, but if I tell her we can prevent you from—”

“Shhhhh! I can’t let her know, I love her. Please don’t.”

“Well if you loved her so much, you wouldn’t be doing this. If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t—” the pink-haired lady stops herself there. I watch intently. “Nevermind. But I have been keeping this from her for far too long and should have told her the moment I saw what was going on. Not only am I betraying your mother, but I am also betraying you!” Amilyn speaks sternly.

What the hell are they talking about?

Ben drops his face into his hands distressed, he lets out a sob, but no tears fall down his face. My heart shatters at the heartbreaking weep, an ache in my stomach forming. Ben seemed so happy, he looked so happy, so content, even if he was shy and quiet. I was wrong,  _ clearly _ .

Ben tilts his head back, most likely trying to keep any tears in. “I don’t want to hurt her, Amilyn.  _ Please _ .”

Amilyn sighs softly, looking down with her hands on her hips. She reaches her lean, bony hand upward onto his shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. “Ben, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” Ben stops her. He pulls away from the gentle grip, storming into the staff room and swinging his backpack around his shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Holdo.”

“You can say Amilyn,” she calls out.

“Forget it,” Ben replies coldly. He sniffles, trying not to break. I know the feeling,  _ he isn’t alone.  _ He tightens his hood. Even though it is such a beautiful day outside, the storm inside his head isn’t. Two stray tears fall down his face, but he wipes them and quickly walks out of the shop. I watch in distress. I want to go after him but my initial instinct is to not.

Ben struts away, a small rain cloud over his head raining down on him.

He is good at hiding emotion, too good. I swallow hard, pulling out my phone and looking at his contact and seeing he has read my message but hasn’t replied. He read it five minutes after I sent it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
>  “If you could read my mind, you’d be in tears.”  
> Unknown
> 
> By the quote, it is evident my mood. I hope you guys are having a better day than I am. Also, I am going to change the cover because I have another idea and also, I will be using the current cover as a template for a future story ;). I am going to change that soon. Also, does anyone listen to the songs I put, I literally spend 10 minutes figuring out a song that correlates with the chapter, lol. But I also want to give a huge thanks to T1lly1. I love you Tills, you are so supportive and an amazing person in general. Go check out their stories!! Also, I’d love it if you guys were to go check out the Spotify playlist I made for this fanfiction. The link is in the description of my story. And I am growing more interested in Rey’s story that I have created for her, so I hope her chapters are less dry. ALSO, I officially edited my last chapter, my fellow editor couldn’t at the time and now they have so the new version is up. If you like Throne of Glass or Marvel, go read her stories and follow her. Her user is: @aBOOKISHfreak. Also, I regard my thanks to you guys who vote and comment, it means the world. Make sure to vote and/or comment if you enjoy! Until we meet again in Ben’s perspective, have a nice day hoomans, and Happy New Year!  
> Maddie

**Author's Note:**

> "Hope. H.O.P.E. Hold On, Pain Ends,"  
> \- Unknown


End file.
